


I'm No Damsel, Bitch

by AthenaFangGranger26



Series: The Lone Wolf Chronicles [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: F/M, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, This is sort of random
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5005510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaFangGranger26/pseuds/AthenaFangGranger26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a heist, thing's go bad for the Fake AH Crew and their newest member, Shyane. What started as a routine heist may just turn into something else, all thanks to someone's carelessness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm No Damsel, Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> I've debated posting this for a long time. This was simply something self-indulgent, but if you guys seem to like it then I have more of Shyane's adventures written up. I'm willing to post them if y'all want.
> 
> I think I caught all the errors, but I could be wrong. Also, this was my first attempt at writing Fake AH or RT/AH in general, so some people may be slightly out of character. I separate the characters from the real people in my head anyway...

The world is hell. Pure hell. Explosions fill the sky, gunfire rains to the earth. Screams and shouts sound from all directions. It's music to my ears. Over all this, I can hear the boss shouting at everyone.  
"Get the fuck out of there, everyone. Stick to the plan," Geoff growls in the earpiece tucked in my ear.  
Easier said than done; the plan just went to shit ten minutes ago. Now, I'm crouched down behind a dumpster while the LSPD shoot over my head. I'd been trapped for at least five minutes, peeking out periodically to drop a few cops.  
"Ray?" I mutter to my earpiece.  
"Yeah, Shy?" The Puerto Rican replies. "What's up?"  
"Still in the area?"  
"Yeah, just above the bank. Why?" There's suspicion in his voice now.  
"Police have me boxed in an alley, think you can clear some of them away?"  
"No prob. Give me a bit."  
The kid's just finished his sentence when bullets start raining down into the cops amassed at the entrance to my alley. I watch as waves of them drop. Soon there's enough down that I dart out and mash the butt of my gun into their heads. Between Ray and I the alley clears up and I'm free to take off and jack a car.  
"Need a ride, Ray?"  
"Sure,"  
I watch as a lithe figure drops gracefully from the roof. I chuckle when a soft "Parkour" makes it into my earpiece before Ray slides into the passenger seat of my little economy car.  
"Coulda picked something faster," the kid deadpans.  
"Shut it."  
I take us out of the area. Veering precariously along all sides of the road to get toward our destination.  
"Everyone clear of the bank?" Geoff hisses.  
"Shy and I are clear and riding together," Ray answers back, turning to peek out the window.  
"Gav and I are under heavy fire, but we're good." Michael says, sounding like he's speaking through grit teeth. "Gavin! Sit the fuck down! Let me shoot, you dumbass."  
"Ooh, sorry Michael!" Gavin trills, causing Ray to chuckle.  
"Dammit, Gavin!"  
"I'm at the pick up, Geoff." Jack pipes up, his wave is slightly blocked by the sound of copter blades in the background.  
"Good, I'm on my way to your location, Jack," Geoff sighs. "Anyone heard from Ryan?"  
I pause. Last I heard from Ryan was when he dashed out onto the road to fight off some of the cops so I could duck back toward the bank. I hadn't heard from him since, not even a mutter or two on the com.  
"Last I saw him was at the front of the bank." I reply, cursing as a bullet flies through the back window. "Shit! That was close."  
"Think you could swing back and look for that idiot, Shyane?"  
I grimace, glancing over briefly to Ray for confirmation. Ray is already climbing onto the center console to stand where he can climb through the sky-roof.  
"Yeah, we got that. Brb."  
I yank the steering wheel to the left, sending us into a wild spin that somehow becomes a u-turn. I get us back on the main road and drive right into the oncoming cops. Ray easily keeps the road clear for me as I barrel down the road.  
"Yo, Ryan? You anywhere on the map?" I call into com.  
I get static in response to which Ray mutters "Great, just great."  
"Keep your eyes peeled for him, Ray. Maybe he's got com interference."  
"Or he's gone dark to pick us all off..." The kid mutters again.  
"That was one time and we stopped him. He's changed some...I think."  
I pay attention to the road as we near the bank again. I'm checking all alleys for a sign of the masked madman. All I see and hear is cops firing from all directions at every part of my car, especially the Puerto Rican sticking out the top.  
"There!" Ray shouts.  
I follow his pointing. In the midst of a stand off with cops stands our missing man. A gun in both hands, Ryan holds off enough cops for the whole crew. His jacket is riddled with holes and scratches, probably from the multitude of bullets flying his way.  
"Ready, Ray?"  
"Always."  
I swerve head on into the sea of cops, smashing into a few with the hood of my car. I pull up next to the masked man.  
"Get in, loser!" I shout, flinging open the back door.  
Ryan takes one glance at me and slides in, shutting the door tight behind him.  
"Hold on. Here we go, Ray."  
I swerve again and bash my way back out of the barricade. I pull back onto the road and get headed back in the direction of the pick up spot.  
"Alright, the R&R Connection and the Lone Wolf are in one vehicle and headed to pick up. How's everybody else?"  
"Doing fan-fucking-tastic. Glad Rye-Bread could join the damn party." Michael mutters, probably still dealing with heavy fire and Gavin's idiocy.  
"Things are a bit shaky, but Jack and I are just waiting on you guys. ETA? All of you?" Geoff's voice crackles over the com.  
"Nearly there," Gavin practically shouts. "Ooh, Michael! That was close!"  
"Shut up!"  
"We'll be there when we get there, Geoff. We've got cops galore and three in a shit car. If you don't hear from us in twenty, take off without us. We'll get to the Vinewood sign on our own." I reply.  
"Roger that."  
I take my eyes off the road as Ryan makes a strangled noise from the back seat. I turn slightly to see him shooting out the shattered back window. The more noticable part though is the hole in his side that is bleeding profusely.  
"Shit, Ryan!" I shout. "You didn't say you were hurt."  
"Just a scratch." He mutters back, muffled by his skull mask.  
"Bullshit. Ray?"  
"Major bullshit, man." Ray is already ducking back in the car.  
He seamlessly takes over driving duty as I slide into the backseat with Ryan. I reach into my jacket, finding my med supplies right where they should be. There's a reason I buy men's jackets and that reason is pockets. I took over doctor duty after I joined because my hands are much steadier than Jack's under pressure.  
Hell, I stitched Gavin back up in the middle of a firefight with a rival gang and delivered a head-shot to three of the members without a problem. Fixing Ryan up in the back of a moving SUV? No problem.  
"Jacket aside. Shirt up." I demand.  
Ryan complies with a sigh, pulling back his jacket and lifting the hem of his shirt. I stare with a sigh and the bullet wound ripping up his pale skin.  
"Dammit, Ryan." I sigh, getting to work.  
Unfortunately, doing this on the run means no real medical tools. I have to dig out the bullet and patch it up while he's completely conscious. But if I know Ryan, then that's fine. He can hide the pain behind his mask.  
I begin my work, keeping my head ducked behind the seat, so I don't have to worry about getting my head shot off. Ray does a wonderful job of keeping us fairly straight on the road. I wince as I hear Ryan suck in a breath as I touch a particularly bad area.  
"Sorry," I mutter. "So, doing anything this weekend?"  
I smirk as I hear everyone sigh on the com. It was a game I liked to play with the boys, as the only single female in the crew. Sometimes to break tension I try to chat one of them up. Never amounts to anything, but it's a good laugh for me, and sometimes the rest of the crew.  
"Nothing on the agenda." Ryan says, voice strained in pain. "You?"  
"Nah, nothing." I struggle to get the bullet out of the wound; the amount of blood that follows the metal bastard out worries me.  
"Wanna do something?"  
"Hell, we get out of this mess, I'll go on a fucking date with ya." I laugh, working to stitch up the hole in Ryan's side.  
"I'll hold you to that." I glance up at Ryan, noticing the faintness in his voice.  
I can barely see his blue eyes behind his mask, but what I see worries me. I slowly remove my hands from my work to ease his mask up and off his head. It takes a bit of work, but I finally get the damn thing off.  
The red, black, and white facepaint that usually coats Ryan's face is smeared from sweat. His lips are parted as he takes quick breaths. He watches me quietly with his too-good-to-be-true blue eyes. But those eyes are half lidded now and struggling to stay open.  
"Hey, now, keep those eyes open, Mister." I berate him, tapping his cheek with my palm, smearing his blood there.  
Ryan lets out a half-hearted chuckle. "How could I close 'em when I've got you to look at?"  
I ignore the heat rising to my face. I try to smile at his joke. "Sure, sure. Just keep 'em open. I've almost got you stitched up."  
"No, really..." Ryan mumbles, and I hear everyone on com swearing softly. "You're gorgeous. I've never seen hair that fiery...and I've seen Lindsay's."  
I roll my eyes, focusing on my fingers' progress with the stitching. "That's absolutely lovely, Ryan, but now is kind of not the time for you to be a softy."  
"'M not." Ryan continues to mumble.  
Ray swears suddenly, swerving sideways to avoid something and I brace myself against the side of the car.  
"ETA?" I shout.  
"Less than five. We're right down the road, I can see the chopper."  
I take the chance to glance up, and sure enough I can see Jack's helicopter hovering a few feet above the ground. Michael's bike is knocked over nearby, and I assume that means he and Gavin made it here safely.  
Somehow, Ray has managed to lose the cops without me realizing. I can't hear sirens now, nor do I see any cops in the area. I silently thank the kid for getting us out safely.  
I turn back to Ryan to finish up my stitching and bite the thread with my teeth. I glance back at his face, giving it another tap when I notice his closed eyes.  
"C'mon, Ryan. We gotta get in the chopper."  
"Mmm?" All I get in response is a small moan and a fleeting smile flitting across the merc's lips.  
"Seriously, Ryan. Let's go," I sigh, tugging slightly on his arm as the car slams to a halt.  
Ray slams the driver side door shut and flings open the back door. He grimaces at me briefly and reaches across me. He gives Ryan a rough slap on his cheek.  
I sigh in relief when the blue eyes shoot open wide. I lay a hand on his chest as it begins heaving.  
"Shh," I murmur. "It's alright. We've gotta get in the chopper."  
This time I get a small nod and Ryan allows me to take his arm and help him from the car. His knees nearly buckle. I quickly slide up next to him and support his weight. Ray takes up his other side and together we hobble to the copter.  
"Careful. You lost a surprising amount of blood from that shot. You're a bit wobbly."  
"No shit," Ryan huffs in my ear.  
I can't help the giggle that escapes my lips at that. Michael looks at me as if I'm going nuts as he jumps out of the chopper to help us get Ryan inside. Once the merc is in, I climb in next.  
Michael and Ray leap in last, the latter kicking Gavin off the opposite side. Ray was a much better shot than the Brit anyway.  
Gavin sits across from me in the back as Jack gets the helicopter in the air. I prop Ryan up on the bench and let him lean against me. He's still pretty out of it.  
It's not like him. Inside I'm worrying. This isn't the Ryan I'm used to. Even Gavin, usually oblivious to everyone else, is watching him with a wary eye.  
"Anyone else hurt?" I ask, stashing my gun and med kit.  
"Nah, keep an eye on that idiot." Geoff answers from the passenger seat.  
So, I do. Even as Ryan miraculously dozes in the back of the chopper, I stare at him. My idiotic brain keeps waiting for something to go horribly wrong. Things usually do when it comes to Fake AH heists.  
Silence fills the chopper. Ray and Michael are scouring the ground and air for threats. Geoff is directing Jack to the drop off spot. And I continue to watch Ryan in worry.  
"Looks like Shyane wasn't the damsel in distress today," Gavin pipes up, giving me a cheeky grin.  
I scowl at the idiot in the chrome aviators. "I'm no damsel, bitch."  
Everyone in the chopper breaks into laughter as Gavin looks down, pouting. I just roll my eyes.  
"Never has been."  
I look over at Ryan, who is watching me with much clearer eyes than before. I smile at him, feeling a weight lift off my chest. Gavin perks up and slides closer, ruining the moment.  
"Hey, Rye-bread!"  
"Hey, asshole." Ryan manages a damn good glare in Gavin's direction. "Lowering yourself to insulting ladies now?"  
Gavin's brow knits in confusion. "Wot?" He glances around as Ryan gives him a half pointed look. "You mean Shy?"  
Ryan nods. "She is female, if you hadn't noticed."  
"Well, yeah, but she's Shyane. I mean-"  
"What?" Ryan feigns innocence. "How many times have we saved your ass, Gavin?"  
"Well-"  
"Well, shut your mouth." With that, Ryan leans back against my shoulder and closes his eyes again.  
"Wot? What was that?" Gavin asks.  
"Moron," Michael mutters, turning halfway around to look at Gavin. "You just insulted his girl, he's defending her because she's too distracted to."  
I shake my head. Anyone could see the gears turning in Gavin's head, he was piecing together what Michael had just told him. He was taking into account the fact that Michael was married to a woman, and had a bit of an idea what they thought. He was slowly getting it.  
"Wait? Shy's Ryan's girl?"  
Ray takes his hand off his pink sniper rifle to face-palm dramatically. "Did you listen to their conversation earlier? He more or less confessed it right on com. When he was loopy on blood loss."  
"Oh," Gavin mumbles. "I missed that bit."  
"No shit, Sherlock." I scoff softly, rolling my eyes.  
Everyone laughs again, Geoff nearly hysterically. I just smile softly, and keep watch on Ryan. I ignore the rest of the crew as they get in a stupid arguement over Gavin's attention span. At one point, I catch Michael's eye, to which he offers me a thumbs up. I can't help the grin that splits across my face at that.  
When Jack finally lands the chopper in the parking lot housing all our personal vehicles, I slowly move my shoulder startling Ryan.  
"Hey, time to go." I smile.  
"Hm?" I try not to laugh at his slightly blurry eyes. "Oh, right. Can I hitch a ride with you?"  
"Sure," I help him to his feet and out of the chopper.  
Geoff splits up the profit from the heist, handing out the bills to their respective owners. He waits patiently as I deposit Ryan in the passenger seat of my convertible. When I return for my share, he presses two shares into my hands.  
"I trust I can trust you to make sure that idiot gets his bit, yeah?"  
"Yeah, when he's in his right mind, yeah." I smile honestly.  
"Good."  
I turn, ready to climb into the driver's side, but Geoff clears his throat suddenly.  
"And Shyane?"  
"Hmm?" I turn back around.  
Geoff smiles almost wistfully, glancing over my shoulder at my car. "Take care of him?"  
"Of course, boss. He'll be back to murdering mofos before too long."  
Now, Geoff smiles truly. "Good. Wouldn't want it any other way. Good luck, Shyane."  
I salute the older man. "Later, boss."  
I finally turn back around, sliding across the hood of my electric blue convertible. I'm about to yank open the driver side door, when Ray leans against the hood.  
Geez, does everyone have something to say to me? Usually we're all divy up the cash and ditch with no words.  
"Yo," he greets.  
"S'up?" I ask.  
"Just wanted to let you know that earlier when he," he nods at Ryan, who's dozed off again, "was talking in the car, that wasn't him being off his nut. That was real truth."  
"Oh...kay?"  
"So, he really will hold you to that date..." I get the sense Ray isn't done.  
"And?"  
"Don't fuck up, asshole." At this, he finally grins and leans away from the hood. "Later, Shy."  
I watch him get in his car and take off, leaving a trail of dust. I turn to watch Michael and the AH-mobile pull away, driving away at a reasonable speed. Gavin on his motorcycle follow after, screeching to a halt to avoid missing the turn and wiping out. Geoff and Jack leave nearly at the same time, each pulling away in a separate direction, though I know they plan on dashing to the bar together.  
I smirk to myself. "Heist well done, assholes."  
I climb into the car and start up the engine. I listen to the purr for a moment, then I spin my back tires and take off squealing down the road.

Ryan wakes up, feeling well rested for once. He rolls over, lifting a hand to wipe across his face. He's startled to find no gritty facepaint where it should be. He almost never remembers to wash his paint off after a heist.  
Speaking of which, why was he sleeping? They were heisting. Hell, why the hell was he in bed? Fuck! Whose bed was he in?  
He opens his eyes to a bedroom he doesn't recognize. It's dark, the curtains in the room are shut. The digital clock beside the bed reads 10:45. He analyzes the bedside table for some sort of clue as to whose bed he's in.  
There's books stacked there, all sci-fi thrillers by the looks of their titles. A gun sits there, pointed away from him. The lamp is built out of an old beer can and the shade is ratty and worn. His cell phone is there as well.  
He sits up, groaning at the pull of pain in his side. He pulls up his shirt hem and finds clean, neat stitches over what looks like a bullet wound. He checks his phone to find a text from each of the guys, all asking if he's feeling any better.  
It all comes back. The heist. Holding down the street so Shyane can get away safely. Getting shot. Nothing too bad. She and Ray came back for him, when he was all prepared to go down right there in front of the bank.  
Shyane stitched him up in the back of a mom van. She smiled at him. She joked with him, though he had seen the panic in her sky blue eyes. He doesn't remember much after that. He remembers calling Gavin an asshole, but when didn't he do that.  
Pain flares in his side at the thought of the wound. He grunts again, setting aside his phone. The bedroom door cracks open and a figure peeks in. The first thing he notices is the fiery orange hair.  
Shyane.  
She comes in, not bothering to shut the door. He can hear the sounds of Doctor Who coming from the living room. She's changed since yesterday, trading her brown leather jacket for a soft graphic tee. She's at his side instantly, clicking on the lamp.  
"Sit back down, you dumb shit," she mutters, pushing him back down.  
He lets her, too busy staring at the worry in her eyes. She shouldn't have that worry in her beautiful eyes. She searches his face, a hand coming up to cup his cheek and feel his forehead.  
Her hands are so delicate and that always amazed him, because he'd seen her choke a man with those same fingers. Those same hands had both shot a gun and carded through Gavin's hair when he got too drunk and passed out somewhere. Those fingers had pulled pins from grenades for fun as well as tapped Ray on the nose as she beat him when playing some video games together.  
He smiled involuntarily at the thought. Her eyebrows knit and she feels his forehead again. She's frowning and he can't have that.  
"Hey," he says, and it comes out as a croak.  
"Shh," she murmurs, and she reaches for something on the table.  
She presses a glass of water to his lips, forcing him to take a drink. She watches him critically, and he knows she's making marks on a mental checklist in her head. When he's finished drinking, she sets the glass back down and pulls on his shirt.  
She examines the stitches, making more notes on her mental list. She bites down on her bottom lip, and it's the sexiest thing at the moment.  
Then she reaches for her cell phone and types something rapidly before replacing it in her back pocket. She sighs heavily and runs a hand down her face. Ryan notices the streaks of red, black, and white on the side of her hand. It worries him that the red is the most prominent color.  
"Talk to me?" He croaks, becoming worried.  
She blinks and looks down at him. She blinks a few more times and a smile works its way onto her lovely lips.  
"Hi," she whispers.  
Oh, she's got tears in her eyes. She's blinking tears away. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He's no good at crying people. Shit. What should he do? Ray would know what to do.  
"Hey, hey. What's wrong?" He tries, hard to comfort someone when you're the one in bed.  
"Oh, fuck," She mutters and then she all but collapses on his chest.  
More tears slip through and soak his t-shirt. She fists her fingers in the shoulders of his shirt. Her whole body shakes with each sob. His hands hover somewhere around her back. He doesn't know what to do.  
She's not a damsel; she shouldn't be crying. She should be kicking ass and taking names. She should be smirking at him in that sexy determined way she has.  
"Hey, shh." He finally lays his hands on her back, rubbing comforting circles there. "Shh, shh. It's alright."  
She shakes her head against his chest. "It's not fucking alright," she huffs. "You got fucking shot and you've been in and out for two goddamn days. The boys wanted to know what the hell was going on, and I'm the damn doctor 'what do you mean you don't know why he's not up yet?'" He can tell, even through her tears, that she's imitating Gavin's stupid accent and it nearly makes him smile. "I'm not a fucking genius. I'm not a fucking magic man-woman- whatever. I'm just a girl with a fucking gun. Maybe I killed him; maybe I fucked up. Maybe I was too late. Maybe he's fucking dead and it's my fault. But you're not and it's fucking great."  
She tightens her grip on his shirt with one hand and lifts the other to wipe at her face. He beats her to it, and presses a thumb to her cheek, catching the moisture there. He smiles kindly and suddenly she's smiling too, and it's the most beautiful thing he's seen-and he's seen some pretty gorgeous explosions. Even with her teary blue eyes, tear streaked cheeks, and flyaway red hair.  
"Told you it was okay," he grins.  
"Fuck you," she mumbles.  
"Love you too."  
And his brain lets off a hundred and one alarms at those words. He just said it. He wasn't supposed to say that. He'd only told Ray one day when they were alone and she was never supposed to know. It's dangerous. It's bad enough that Michael and Lindsay got married. They can't have two relationships in the crew. That's asking for trouble. He shouldn't have said it anyway. This is Shyane; she's too good for a piece of trash mercenary like him. She's above stupid love. The only thing she loves is the adrenaline from running from the red and blue lights. And-  
Then her lips cover his and she's kissing him. She's kissing him! She's fucking kissing him! It takes him a few seconds to reciprocate, but then he's in heaven and she's kissing him. He's dreamed of this and now it's a reality.  
Her lips are just as soft as he imagined, but they're just rough enough from her habit of biting them when she's nervous.  
Her hands come up to cup his face again and he does the same, running his thumb up her cheek. She moves one hand to pull at his ponytail, something she loved to tease him for. He can feel her smiling and it brings a grin to his face too.  
When she pulls away her face is flushed and she's grinning from ear to ear. She taps his nose with hers and that sends them both giggling, which ends with another round of kissing. They break for air a few moments later, and she is still chuckling.  
"I fucking love you," she laughs.  
"Same."  
"Was that a ditto, or are you agreeing that you love yourself?"  
Ryan pauses, smirking at her. "Both?"  
She throws her head back, laughing. "Ass." She pairs the insult with a peck on the cheek.  
She sits up and helps him to follow. She reaches for her phone and her brow knits again. She scowls at her phone for a moment, before tossing it down on the table again.  
She jumps off the bed and looks over at the bookshelf in the corner. She huffs in the way she does when she's exasperated at someone.  
"What?"  
She shakes off his question and walks over to the bookshelf. She begins pushing books out of her way. She groans softly suddenly and reaches to the back of the bookshelf. When she pulls her hand back, there's a small camera there.  
"Fucking Gavin." She mutters. Then without warning, she turns and chucks the thing at the nearest wall. It shatters on impact, to which she smirks. "I hope that cost him half a fortune. He owes Ray twenty bucks now anyway."  
"Huh?"  
She turns back to him, smirking that stupid sexy smirk still. She wanders back over and climbs up on the other side of the bed.  
"Oh, hon. You haven't missed much, but you missed enough. I'll catch you up in the morning. Now, let's catch some sleep. You're still healing, anyhow."  
She burrows herself under the blankets and scoots up next to him. She lays her head on his chest and curls around him. He holds her close, just glad he can for once.  
"I don't feel any pain."  
She sighs, "Shut up, asshole, go to sleep."  
"Insults left and right."  
"You're my asshole. Go to bed, asshole."  
"Yes, ma'am."  
"I hate you."  
"Love you too, babe."  
Ryan falls back asleep with a smile on his face.  
Because everything's alright.

"Alright, so Ray's up top. Sniping any one that tries to do anything."  
The kid nods at Geoff. The old mustachioed man points at a point on the map.  
"Team Bonnie/Clyde will be waiting here with getaway cars, that's where Gav and Michael will meet you guys."  
I nod, squeezing Ryan's hand and pecking him on the cheek. He chuckles and nods to Geoff.  
"Are we driving separate getaway vehicles, or can we take a car and just keep an eye on the second one?" He asks.  
Geoff sighs, rubbing his face. "Fine, take a car for yourselves. Fucking love birds."  
"Hey, making out makes a damn good cover." I offer with a smirk.  
Everyone makes a face at that and only Ryan and I are laughing.  
"Whatever, dude. Just do it where I can't see."  
"You mean, like Ryan's room in the apartment last night?" Gavin pipes up, looking particularly proud of himself.  
"Is that what I heard?" Michael suddenly shouts.  
I smile sheepishly at Michael, "Sorry."  
"God-fucking-dammit, Shy! I was trying to sleep!"  
"I could show-"  
I cut Gavin off. "If you say 'show you the tape', I will fucking end you."  
Gavin makes one of his infamous "Gavin noises" and squirms.  
"Gavin," I warn.  
"Now, Shy." The Brit is already easing himself off the couch, trying to slink away.  
"Gavin, I will fucking kill you!"  
I leap off the couch and chase after the idiot. He takes off through the apartment and I follow quickly. I chase him back into his bedroom. Ray and Ryan are hooting after me, fist-bumping as they hear a crash from the room over and Gavin squealing. Michael and Jack are laughing their asses off, Michael yelling out fight tactics he knows Gavin can't use against me.  
Geoff just puts his head in his hands and sighs loudly. "I don't steal enough fucking money to deal with this bullshit."  
But this is the Fake AH Crew and stupidity goes hand-in-hand with the crime.  
It's run by a mustachioed drunk who somehow plans badass heists when he's not babysitting a dumbass Brit, a swear-happy Jersey boy, and a sure-shot Puerto Rican. He's aided, sometimes, by a badass bearded pilot who favors Hawaiian shirts, a madman mercenary, and a girl with a fucking gun.  
Explosions almost always follow expletives. Cars never seem to stay in one piece, and sometimes a shooting leads to love. It's chaos, but it's our chaos.  
We wouldn't have it any other way.  
Because this life is fucking great.


End file.
